"Spake out, what is it?" "Ahem!" commenced Tim; "you see, sir (_aside_),
I'll be even wid you for that kick, you thief of the world--you see, Paddy
(bad manners to him) and the rest o' the boys, was thinking that, owing to
the change o' climate, Master Richard--that is, his new riverence--has
gone through by rason of laving England and comin' here--and mighty could,
no doubt, he was on the journey--be praised he's safe--the boy, sir, was
thinkin', masther dear, it was nothing but their duty, and what was due to
the family, to ax your honour's opinion about their takin' the smallest
taste of whiskey in life, jist to be drinking his riverence's Masther
Richard's health, and"--"Success to him!" shouted the chorus at the door.
"That's it!" said the masther. "And nothing but it!" responded the chorus.
"Nelly, my jewel! take the kays and give them anything in dacency!"
"Hurrah! smiling good luck to you, for ever and afther!" "That'll do,
boys! but stay: it's Terence Conway's wedding night--it's a good tenant
he's been to me--take the sup down there, and you'll get a dance; now be
off, you devils!"
"Many thanks to your honour!" chorused the delighted group; and "I done
that iligant, anyhow," muttered the gratified, successful, and, therefore,
forgiving orator.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57